"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
That night, I had slept. It felt blissful and at all, a dream. Had my sleep-deprived brain concocted the whole foray? I was sure it had been a ruse, my own mind playing shameless tricks. But indeed, it had happened, as I had awoke and the earthen beast was by my side. I felt comfortably numb, a fire licking over my skin. Now, now I walked through the chamber with a positively new glow. Even beneath the dirt and the grime of the chamber's ash and dirt, I was aglow. My hormones were all over the place, peaking and dropping. I was finding myself far more tired than usual, and even that was something. I was capturing a few dozes in the day, underneath the copse of trees; their boughs as protective as any. I often lay my nose against my barrel, even if it were just a dream, I could feel something shift within, life, life born from a night of sorrow turned bliss. He had held me when I needed it, and had taken my mask from my face, kept his eyes on me, even when mine leaked tears. Killdare was something else, and still, the butterflies quivered inside of me at the very thought of spring. Shards of doubt had begun to penetrate me, momentarily soon changed to want, desire and a sense of pride. There would be a new addition to grace the chamber's scarred earth, and one that would be as promising as the growing sapling in the treeline.
My nightly wanderings (I was still finding it a feat to sleep when the sun went down. I truly was nocturnal in my habits now.) brought me across the clearing; Where normally I stalk the shadows with ever observant eyes, I now wandered the clearing, the hard ground knocking a crescendo into the silent night. My tired eyes looked out, as a guardian, as a protector but as something else. I was protecting the home, my home, my kingdom and my companions. But now, now I was protecting something equally as precious to me, as the sapling is to the chamber. A new life.
That night they had made love for the first time. An occurance that still seemed surreal to the bay stag, even though every detail was burned into his memory. The sleep after was perhaps the best he had ever experienced, there in the lichen with the golden girl. She had been completely vulnerable, and yet he had not really seen her before. Not just see her, but see her. Her soul, her being, spirit, whatever one might call it.
He had made to visit her regularly since then, usually after his patrols. He had even spotted her dozing mid afternoon now, the occurrence pulling strings at his maw. He didn't yet make known his assumptions, though her heads or tails moods only cemented the idea. He took them all in stride, a smug smile projected each time. Boy it would piss her off sometimes, only to his own amusement, a beautiful mess.
It was about that time, Killdare had already made the border twice.The night had settled in, cold, winter was all but upon them. His hide was already growing thick and coarse, only more evidence to the fact. Daggers pull at the earth, he navigated with purpose through the pines.
Her scent was an easy one now, and she reeled him in with ease. She was in the clearing, a place she did not frequent, at least not to his knowledge.
His jade orbs sweep up her flesh, he didn't even hide it, there was no shame to be had. Not as far as he was concerned. He devoured her with each look, approaching the auric woman head on. "Well aren't you the best damn thing I've seen all night."He rumbled before diving his lips into her mane.
I feel the cold fingers of jack frost weave between my creamy locks and my golden skin. He touches me in places that makes me quiver; my flanks, my loins and my shoulders. All parts of me that shook with memories. Those memories are what had brightened my eye recently. I'd seen him scouting, he walked with a purpose, a keen eye. Nothing escaped her dear Killdare. One out of place pinecone, I was sure he would push it back and bury it beneath the piles of deadened leaves. As always, I see him, weaving the pines. That very image concocts memories in my memory chamber, like a big black cauldron I stir them, and the scent of ash (even though it is much less prominent now.) still clings to my nostrils, and the quiver of Atrox's heart beats underfoot. I remember that night well. We taunted, we teased. He was not somebody I would have pictured ever sending the chill along my spine, or the quaver of moths in my gut. In all earnest, I had never expected to fall. But alas, even the angels fall, sometimes.
I whicker for him, my tone is husky, low. It is the chill in the night air that coils and acts like curling fingers, beckoning him to me. A waver of breath and he is there, here. My gilded neck snakes out and my head presses into him, nose nestling in the nook between jaw and neck. His warmth, his solidity, his beating pulse. He is a familiarity that I need, that I lust for even now. My blossoming frame, it grows ever more. I feel a burden, a large monstrosity. Before, a lithe creature of the night, weaving around the trees with a certain grace. Now, now I had as much hassle as that first evening when I fully met Killdare. But now, now I had fully met him, he had become ingrained in me, parts of my heart, my soul.
'Just what a lady needs to hear, when she is feeling as inconspicuous as a crow in a flock of doves.' I pressed my salmon touched nose deep against his skin, feeling his rigid pulse, as alive as my own. My sapphire eyes sweep over him as I pull my crown back, to admire, to simply stare. 'I don't even know what to do with these... emotions. I feel elated one minute, sinking in the pit of despair the next. But you, oh you, my earthen knight. You are here.' My tone slips from a woven black magic spell, to barely a whisper. My creamy plume glides over my hocks absentmindedly, I catch a look at the corner of my eye, feeling the life shift within, delicate at first, but now, now spring is but a season away, it swells with an impatience. 'It is impatient. I am positive it's a he, you know.' my lidded eyes turn back to the bay steed, and my teeth pull at his ebony mane, moving to gently caress his withers. 'I do feel useless though. A wading mass.' My tone is an eerie, haunting call of an owl, before a twist of a smile, a real, real smile. No mask is worn around him no longer -- he paid heed to that, that very night. 'Oh, and congratulations, my Lieutenant.' my smile is smooth in a transition to a smirk, as I nip at his shoulder. He works hard, to build the chamber, to keep things in check. He warrants so much more, so much I wish I could give, as a thank you, as a gift. I have a slither of hope, that at least I could give him a strapping son.
It is as her tawny tiare meets his flesh, that a gruff sigh passes through him. He can feel the expression rise from his hallow cavity up into the night with fervor. How close they had become in their short time together, she the flame that cast his shadow. "Wouldn't you rather be the dove my dear?" He asks thoughtfully, her bleached tresses snaking around his maw. Ask him now, and he would say they had always been that way, that they belonged.
Her word are amusing, the ebb and flow of her emotions had not been missed by the bay charger. Each time they changed like that of a hair pin trigger, pregnancy was an odd experience for him as well. Though, in obviously, a different manner. From the outside looking in one might percieve the dame quite mad, might take her roller coaster ride to heart. Hell, he was sure he could take the world for a spin too, if he had a tiny lifeform swelling within him.
No, she was entitled to her emotions, like any woman would be. The array seemed vast compared to the simplicity of his own, and they were all at the same time. How did they manage to not explode from such occurance? He wondered though he was sure he would never understand the complexities of a woman. "Oh we are sure are we?"He muses, her certainty was refreshing. He could hope for a son, but there was just no guarantee with these things."Why, I think your right. We must find more things for you to do, might we have a volunteer for the words?" Loooking around hopefully, off into some unseen crowd. Grass orbs filled with a playful seriousness, before he gives her an affectionate nip. "Don't waste all the well wishes on me, I hear we have a new minister in town." It felt good to slip into some sort of perceived normal, to have a state of commonplace.
